Prison
by ilovetwizzlers
Summary: Bulma is kidnapped from Earth by Freeza. He has big plans for her, but not if Vegeta can help it.
1. Chapter 1

Bulma thrashed like a wild animal. Yanking on the leather restraints that held her body down on the cold hard table. She cursed the men that shot her with some sort of green liquid. Which seemed to make it harder and harder to concentrate. Slowly she was losing consciousness. Screaming in frustration she continued to try and free herself before those crazy bastards that captured her came back, and before she lost herself to complete blackness.

She saw something move out of the corner of her eye, and whipped her head around to get a better look. It was one of those damn doctors. He was holding something. Like a computer chip? Her vision was too blurry. She could barely see the outline of his body anymore. No, she wouldn't let him win. With all of her mental power, she concentrated as hard as she could. Her eyes straining at the effort.

One of the techs noticed in shock that captive #D1990 was still fighting the drugs and clearly very deadly still. He gasped, "B-Boss, she's still conscious!"

Without a word, the Head Doctor scrambled over to the tray that contained the precious green liquid that keeps her mind out of theirs and out of trouble. The techs and nurses screamed for him to hurry, and some even ran out of the room in fear. Bulma was already beginning to enter their minds. Fumbling with the syringe, he dropped the needle, "Damnit!"

Screams of agony filled the lab as Bulma began to torture her victims. Making them reach up and claw at their own faces and heads, trying desperately to get rid of the pain. Some fell to the floor in screaming fits, others banged their heads on the walls or tabletops, anything within their reach. Their eyes rolling to the back of their head in pure agony. The Head Doctor, who was starting to feel Bulma's power as well, grabbed the needle off the floor, his hands shaking from the pain, his eyes began to water also as he began to draw the liquid out of the bottle. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air as he desperately tried to push past the pain, and finish the task that would save all their lives.

Glancing up, he nearly choked on his spit as he watched the scene going on in front of him, barely believing his own eyes. Various nurses and techs were either laying on the floor twitching uncontrollably or still standing while clutching their heads, screaming in what must be pure torture. Objects from around the lab were either spiraling in fast circles above their heads, or clattering against their places on the tables and counters. Drawers and cabinets were opening and closing at a frightening speed. Finally finished with the needle, he flung himself over to the captive's place on the restraint table. Wrapping his arm around the bar on the edge, he got ready to give her the shot.

Bulma could barely see anything, black spots clouded her vision making it almost impossible to see the crazy son of a bitch doctor barely half a foot away from her face. Unfortunately for him, she could see him just enough for what she was about to do.

Using all of the power she could muster in her weakened state, she concentrated on hitting the Head Doctor with all she had left. Leaving the other people and objects in the room, she glared with bloodshot eyes at the man that was about to quite possibly end her life.

Nearly collapsing from the sudden enormous jolt of pain, the Head Doc dropped the filled syringe, and fell to the floor, letting out bloodcurdling screams. Blood pouring out of his eyes, ears, and dribbling out of his mouth every time he gasped for another breath. Then without warning, his head exploded with a sickening pop.

Blood and gore was sprayed on nearly every exposed surface. Bulma, the closest object, was drenched in his blood with bits of gore covering her. Finally alone, she took a minute to take a deep breath. Then grunting with the effort she pulled against the leather, watching thankfully as it began to crack and split, slowly allowing her freedom.

Before she could begin to celebrate, one of the techs jumped up from the floor yelling, and in his hand was the lost syringe that the Head Doc once had. As quickly as possible, he plunged the needle into Bulma's thigh and released it's contents into her body.

Screaming in pain and anger, Bulma thrashed violently, flinging her body back and fourth against the table in protest. Try as she might, but the drug was already beginning to take it's tole, and slowly the light left her eyes as she gradually lost consciousness. Her body slumped against the metal table in defeat. She lost.

Trying to catch his breath, the tech cautiously pulled the needle out of the captive. Praying to every God he knew with all his might, that this monstrosity wouldn't wake up again and destroy them all.

* * *

She could feel her throbbing headache before she woke up. She almost thought it was part of the dream she had. A dream where she was back on Earth. Something she'd rather not think about right now if she could help it. Moaning, Bulma grasped her forehead as she sat up, fully awake now. The first thing she noticed was that she was still covered head to toe in blood and gore from that punk bitch-ass doctor. She tried but failed to wipe most of it off her face. There was much more important things to worry about now. Finally noticing where she was, she became slightly confused. Gazing around the small white cell she seemed to be stuck in. Fuck, it was smaller then one of her closets. Barely enough room for the pitiful twin bed and table. There was also a closet with no door, but it was so tiny it looked more like a big dent in the wall. She turned her head to the front of the room, facing the door. No window, no peep-hole, nothing. There also wasn't a window to look outside. Not that she should expect one right?

Immediately, she began to think of ways to escape, but before she could act on those urges and ideas, she felt a powerful jolt that seemed to flicker through her brain. She shrieked, and grasped her head in pain, nearly collapsing back on to the bed with the force. Then all at once she knew, that those bastard alien doctors did this, somehow it was their fault. She clenched her fists in fury, but forced herself calm down. This was not the time to lose her cool.

She gently felt around her head and neck looking for any sign of intrusion. Then on the back of her neck, right beneath her skull, she felt it. It seemed to be some sort of chip. Apparently, something to keep her out of trouble. To keep her from messing with people's heads. Furious, she almost dug her finger nails into her skin and ripped the damn thing out, but she thought better of it. She had no idea what that thing was connected to exactly, and it might quite possibly explode if she tampered with it.

Still angry beyond belief, she yanked up the small table near her bed, and threw it at the cell door. The table broke instantly into three jagged pieces before falling to the floor. Still not satisfied, she began to rip the bedding off the pathetic excuse for a mattress she was once sleeping on. Trying in vain to rip it to shreds, but gave up half-way. Flipping the mattress over, she yanked the cast iron bed frame up, and tried to dismantle it, also in vain. Frustrated and unsatisfied, she pushed the still intact bed frame aside and screamed at the of her lungs, "What do you want from me?!"

-

In a room not far from Bulma, a lizard-like alien was quite pleased with himself. The little vixen that he had most recently captured still hasn't noticed the camera in the far corner of her room. Granted, it was well hidden, but he was still a bit surprised she hadn't thought of it. It didn't matter, for he was enjoying her little temper tantrum very much. So he wasn't going to interrupt just yet.

He had many plans for her. She is a wonderful piece to his collection. You see, this is what he does. Before purging, he has his special forces do a quick sweep across the entire planet, searching for anyone or anything with great power or potential. Sometimes it's strength, other times it's simply beauty, and then there's the times with he stumbles upon a race that comes with special powers all their own. It could be anything from the power to heal one's self, to being able to embrace the elements, control objects, or to be more specific, people.

Yes, this blue-haired female is beautiful and she's very much a genius, but that's not why he's holding her his prisoner. Oh, no. D1990, is a very special piece to his collection, and he had to go to great lengths to capture and contain her. All of his head doctors and scientists spend days constructing a chip. This little chip was the only thing keeping D1990 from destroying anything that gets in her path. Keeps her from controlling anything or anyone she can think of. She's indestructible. The perfect weapon, and Freeza's goal is to earn his new weapon's trust. With her by his side, he would most definitely rule the entire universe.

He continued to gaze on with amusement as Bulma began cursing most vilely, stomping her feet, and pulling at her hair. He chuckled quietly before pushing down on the button that would allow him to speak to her. "Try not to ruin your furniture because you won't be getting replacements."

Snapping her head up, Bulma frantically looked all around the cell before noticing a small flash in the upper right-hand corner. Glaring at the pathetic piece of technology she hissed, "What do you want from me?"

Freeza smirked a little while calmly speaking, "Nothing right now, I'm afraid. I've just come to announce that you're about to join the rest of my collection in the yard."

Her eyebrows furrowed,and she scoffed, "What do you mean 'the yard'? I'm not going anywhere, except back to Earth! And I am NOT part of anyone's fucking collection!" Grabbing a piece of wood from the demolished table, Bulma hurled it at the tiny camera, hopefully causing lots of damage.

Except for a few black snowy spots, the camera screen was still fully functional. Freeza wasn't an idiot. Trying to break these cameras were some of his prisoners favorite past times. He knew how tough these things had to be. "Save your energy for when you enter the yard. I will not have one of my newly crowned favorites die because of a petty temper tantrum. Don't worry, your chip will be adjusted to allow you to defend yourself, but nothing more."

He grinned while letting out a low sinister chuckle, sending a shiver down Bulma's spine. "We wouldn't want you to get carried away now, would we?"

He smiled, "Well, at least not yet." He whispered, more to himself.

Seething, Bulma's rage was practically pouring off of her in waves. She wasn't someone's pet, their toy! She flicked her finger over to the camera, and spat out, "I will kill you! I will kill you, and I'll enjoy every fucking minute of it!"

In the middle of her vow, two burly men in uniform came barging into her cell. Startled, she jumped behind what was left of her bed and attempted to throw the cast iron frame at them. Much to her dismay, they caught it, and tossed it aside like a flimsy tissue. One grabbed at her, easily holding on to her without having to use any force.

Unfortunately for Bulma, she had never had to relay purely on her physical strength. She has always had her mind, her mental strength, for that. Now that was missing, and she felt lost and scared. Suddenly, she began to violently attack the man who was currently dragging her out of the cell door and down the dim hallway. Clawing at his face, and kicking at his lower regions. She figured she struck gold, when he doubled over, let go of her, and used both hands to hold his balls.

Before she could even take two steps away, the other man threw an enormous arm around her waist. Reeling her in, he said in a deadpan voice, "We're just trying to do our job, miss, and you're not making it any easier."

Bulma almost fell over, but instead settled on just rolling her eyes, "Hmm, I don't know. Maybe because that's the fucking point!"

While letting out a huge sigh, he throw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She squeaked in protest, "See these legs, ass face? They're meant for walking!"

Completely ignoring her, he grabbed the other man's shirt, who was still doubled over groaning, and lifted him up, "What do I always tell ya? Don't forget your fuckin' cup!" He slapped the man on the back of the head, and motioned for him to go ahead of him.

Still listening to the conversation through the camera, Freeza grinned at his new pets spirit. "She's exactly what I've been looking for."


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own DBZ.

Review Please.

They must have walked three miles worth of hallways before they came to a stop at a huge metal door. The man holding her nodded at his companion, and he proceeded by punching a code into a small box near the side of the door. Bulma cranked her head around to try and get a glimpse at which symbols he was punching in, but she could barely see around the huge man and his fat head. She whispered, "Hey, what the hell is the yard?"

The man holding her chuckled, "It's a place where all of Freeza's collection are allowed to mingle." He glanced at her, looking her up and down. "And if I were you, I would be very careful."

The man typing in the code 'hmfped' and grumbled, "I think with a kick like that she'll be just fine, with or without her powers." Finished, he stepped back and allowed the door to slide open. He waited, while Bulma's carrier continued through the threshold.

Laughing freely, he said, "You're just sour because she caught you off guard!" Then without much warning, he tossed Bulma down to the ground, and she landed flat on her ass.

"Ow!" She jumped up as quickly as fell, and was about to give them a piece of her mind, but the door slid shut without so much as another word from either of them. Growling, she turned around while dusting off her bum. The 'yard' was huge, around the size of a football stadium, the place strangely enough reminded her of a prison. There were tables off to the side where people all shapes and sizes stood, sat, and talked. Groups of others stood in random spots talking in hushed tones about something that probably wasn't legal. Everyone donned an orange suit with their ID number stitched where their breast pocket would be. She quickly realized that she seemed to be the only female here, and they were all staring. Oh, goody.

As soon as the door slid open all the captives in the yard had turned to see the new recruit. Word had gotten out about a little blue-haired bitch, and what she had done in the labs. Things that had made even some of the most gruesome men raise their eyebrows. Some men didn't believe it, and some just enjoyed the thought of fresh meat. And it was first come, first serve.

Almost immediately after Bulma arrived, a scrawny man with several deep vertical scars that ran from his right eyebrow, over his right eye, and all the way down to the middle of his neck, jumped up from his seat on the nearest table. Lust clearly shone through his eyes, or at least the eye that wasn't completely white. He seemed to be oblivious of her current appearance. Blood must be a turn-on for him?

Bulma moved to face him head on, ready to defend herself. She assumed he had a special power of some sort. Obviously he was of some value if he is in Freeza's collection. She could tell from his appearance that physically he probably wasn't much stronger then her, but then that just opened a whole new set of doors. If he didn't need to be very strong, then he must have a very effective power to protect himself.

Spud, licked his lips while his eyes racked up and down her body, if no one else was brave enough to try and claim her then fine. More for him. He grinned from ear to ear, giving her a good view of his brown rotting teeth, before disappearing into thin air.

Before Bulma could even understand what just happened, she felt herself being slammed up against the door behind her. Her head snapped back and made a sickening crack against the metal, and her arms were pinned above her head with one of his bony hands. While his other began ripping her jacket off at an alarming speed, so fast she could barely see his damn arm. Shocked and dizzy, she let out a growl of aggravation while she tried to knee him where the sun don't shine, but his hand beat her to it and held her knee down. "Ah, ah, ah, be nice while I have my fun," he chuckled. Her lip curled in anger, and she narrowed her eyes as she began to concentrate. Happy when she realized Freeza kept his promise, and she was allowed to enter his mind.

With no idea of what he got himself into, Spud continued to chuckle when it looked liked she had given up. _This is too easy_, he thought. Then, out of the blue, he suddenly began to feel a prickly sensation up his arm. Letting go of the last bits of jacket left on the blue bitch, he glanced down at his arm. Thousands of bugs, black bugs with red eyes, scurried up his arm! He screeched in horror, and immediately tried to scrape them off. But then he looked at his other arm, and it was covered to. They quickly crawled up his arms, and began roaming up and down his body, going underneath his clothes, and into his hair. Lastly, they began to find their way into his ears and mouth. Screaming, he wildly scraped at the bugs trying so desperately to be free of them, but they came in what seemed like a endless cycle.

Forgotten at the door, Bulma casually walked past the crazed man, and into the crowd of men who had gathered to watch the interesting display. She seemed completely unfazed at what she had done. As if being covered in blood and gore wasn't enough, she seemed to show no emotion for what does to her victims. Without a second thought, they parted down the middle as if she were a queen, not wanting to be anywhere near her. Afraid to so much as look at her. She walked past them, and all way to the back of the yard where there was a door with a large sign that read 'SHOWERS'.

Unaware that Spud was actually covered in 'bugs', the men in the yard were left with a man jumping around, scraping and tearing at his own skin, while trying to rip his suit off. As if he had some horrible itch, it was beyond bizarre. He let out, "Help me! Help me!" in high-pitched screams. Pleading to who he thought were his friends to help relieve him from this horrible nightmare.

Thankfully, no one dared to follow Bulma into the showers. After finding a fresh bar of soap and something for her hair, she searched the room until she found a clean towel. Luck was on her side, when she found a drawer filled with navy shorts and gray shirts. She assumed that this is what the men wore underneath their orange suits. Satisfied, she choose the stall farthest away from the door, and eagerly hoped in and began to scrub every inch of her body. Then after she rinsed, she did it again and again until her skin was bright red. She sniffed, holding back the tears she would not let fall, she would not allow herself to be that weak. She didn't enjoy having people live through their worst nightmares, but she wasn't going to have some nasty fuck rape her either.

She had just begun to wash her long hair, when she heard the swish of the door opening. Cursing the lack of door or curtain for the shower stall, she placed one hand over her pussy and her other arm around her breasts before peering over the shower wall. Nothing. She saw nobody. Someone was trying to be sly, and she will find him and kick him in the teeth! She eyed the towel she had left on the bench about eight feet away. _Damn you bench! Oh, this is ridiculous! _Growling, she yelled out, "HEY! Who ever the fuck thought they could catch a glimpse of this hot mess better think twice!"

She heard a muffled snort closer to the front the room and snapped her head in that direction, "Hello? Can't a girl get some privacy?!"

"Not when I have to take a piss. These are the only toilets we're allowed access to, you know." Someone, obviously a man, muttered followed by a quick _zip! _and flush.

Bulma's eyes connected with another striking pair from across the room, and without breaking the contact, the man opened the stall door, and stepped out. Letting Bulma get a good view of him. He was tall, at least 6'4", physically fit, and she didn't doubt that he could hold his own in a fist fight. Except for his face, every inch of his skin seemed to be covered in tattoos. She couldn't make out much details from far away, but they were very vibrant and bold. Whoever the artist was, was very talented. Even his head, which sported a mohawk, had tattoos on either side of his hair. Which, when Bulma looked closer, wasn't even hair but flames. Or at least, they looked like flames. His skin seemed to be a dull olive color, and his eyes were bright red. She was almost positive on what his power was, but she wasn't interested in chit chat.

Rudely, she spat, "Don't you have someplace to be? I'd really like to finish my shower some time this week."

The red-eyed man smirked, and stuffed his hands in his pockets before saying, "You know, not all of us are dick heads like Spud out there."

Bulma snorted, and noticed that he didn't look like he was going to move anytime soon, so she continued to wash her hair while facing him. Thank ful that the wall shielded her femanine parts. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Sitting down on a beach about four stalls down from her, he answered, "It means, that some of us actually want to help each other. As in, help each other escape. There's a group of us here that are planning to make our move on the next mission Freeza's sends us on. We've agreed that you'd be a very helpful part of our team. Are you in?"

Glaring at him, Bulma considered what he said for a moment. Of course she wanted to get out of here, and there was no doubt in her mind that she will. The question is when and how. Did she trust this guy? No. She just fucking met him, but sometimes drastic times call for drastic measures.

Bulma cleared her throat, catching the guy's attention. "I prefer to work alone. Oh, and would you mind turning around?"

He furrowed his brow, but did what she asked. While he had his back to her, Bulma quickly ran to the bench to dry herself off and change into her new clothes. Annoyed that they didn't fit right, she looked back up to find that guy staring at her.

"Hey assface, I told you to turn around!" She chucked her bar of soap at him.

It hit him square in the chest, but he didn't even flinch. Ignoring her outburst, he continued to try and persuade her, "You have no idea how Freeza's ships work, or how to get off this planet. You will need others to help you, and my team and I are perfect for the job. We've been here for years, and we know every nook and cranny in this hell hole-"

"That sounds absolutely wonderful, but I'm not just a fucking pretty face who knows how to get under people's skin. I'm a Kami-damned genius, and I'm perfectly capable of operating any ship I come across." Gliding past the flamed-haired hunk, she glanced back at him just before she walked out the door that would lead her back into the yard, "What the hell is your name anyway?"

Shocked by her attitude, he was suprised at what she said. He expected her to practically jump at the opportunity of help. _Obviously, this kitten has claws,_ he thought. He smirked, "Leo"


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own DBZ.

Review Please.

When Bulma returned to the yard, it was nearly empty. The few men that were left began to quickly shuffle towards the big doors at the entrance. She heard someone yelling at her, and turned to see one of the big burly men that had originally brought her there. Confused she asked, "What?"

"Get over here, girly!" He sounded frustrated, and he hurriedly waved her over to where he was standing. She ignored the fact that he didn't sound very happy. Deciding it wasn't a big deal, she shrugged, and walked over.

"Long time no see, big guy," she muttered upon reaching him. He snorted, and motioned for her to follow him through a side door. She hesitated at the threshold, "Where are we going?" A second later her stomach rumbled. "The kitchen, hopefully?"

Grumbling, he grabbed her arm, and began to drag her along. "We're going to get you a suit, if you must know, and we will not be going to the kitchens. Your meals are delivered to you in your cell."

She scoffed, "Is there a reason why we have to be treated like prisoners? If I'm going to be doing all of Freeza's dirty work, I'd appreciate so-"

In that moment, Bulma was slammed up against the wall, with one of the man's thick hands around her neck and the other still holding her arm in a death grip. Immediately, she tried to attack his mind, but she felt the same sharp shock she felt back in her cell. She screeched, both from the shock and from being choked.

Furious the burly man roared, "Where did you hear that?! Who told you this?!" He loosened his grip around her neck, allowing her to speak, but only just.

Gasping, she let out a raspy chuckle, "Well now I know."

He picked her up by the neck, and slammed her up against the wall again, "TELL ME!"

She clawed at his hand, desperate for air, trying hard not to go into a panic. She knew he couldn't kill her, Freeza would be furious. He would most likely die if he even attempted it. Almost as if he had read her thoughts, the man released her neck, but still kept a firm grip on her arm. In a much calmer tone, he forced the words through his teeth, "Would you be so kind to tell me the bastard that let you in on that little secret?"

Fiercely she glared up at him while tenderly rubbing her throat and spat, "I didn't need to ask anyone, you fool! I figured it out all on my own. For fuck's sake, isn't it obvious? Why else would he be keeping me here? For shits and giggles?"

The overly bulky man grumbled something incoherently before he dropped the hold on her arm, and continued to stalk down the hallway as if nothing happened. Bulma glanced down at her aching arm, and could already see bruises forming. She groaned inwardly, and then followed the grumpy bastard.

As soon as Gordan (this was the name Bulma decided to give the big bad bastard since he wouldn't tell her his real one) shoved a brand-spankin' new orange suit into her arms, he marched alongside her all the way back to her cell. Then before she could say another word, she was shoved through the threshold, and the door was slammed behind her. She didn't even attempt to bang on it with her fists. She knew it would be a wasted effort. Besides, she didn't want to give them a show because she was sure Freeza would piss himself laughing at her through that damn camera of his. She slowly raised her head to glare at that annoying hunk of junk.

Would it be all that difficult to try and dismantle it? Doubtful, but if she got caught the punishment would most definitely be harsh...

Oh well, we only live once.

Trying to act as casual as possible, Bulma tossed her suit on to her... new bed? Glancing around, she finally noticed that not only was her bed restored and with new sheets but there was also a new table placed next to it. She smirked, Freeza's full of shit.

Out of the corner of her eye, she peered up to the camera, curiously. She had no idea if someone was watching from the other end. The damn chip that was embedded in the back of her head prevented her from broadening her mind to seek out and find anyone that would be. She needed a plan. What if she waited until everyone went to sleep? Well, if this was anything more like a prison than it already is, there will definitely be somebody on night watch. Fuck! Maybe taking that offer from Leo wouldn't have been a bad idea?

Eventually she decided that it wouldn't be a bad idea to consult with Leo the next morning. Throwing the ugly orange clothing onto the floor in a heap, she flung back the covers and collapsed on the bed, boots and all, suddenly exhausted from the long and crazy day.

* * *

BRRRRRRRIIINNGG!

"WAHH!" Flipping out of bed and onto the rock hard floor was _just_ how Bulma wanted to start her morning at the ass crack of dawn. The annoying-beyond-belief alarm continued on for about another 2 minutes blocking out any thought process. As it ended, she could hear shuffling and muffled voices from the other side of her cell door. Ignoring them, she instead concentrated on trying to make sure all her body parts still worked. "Ughhhh, my... everything hurts." Rubbing her face with the palm of her hand, she glared up at the camera. She hated the possibly of somebody constantly watching her, and considering she was only girl that she knew of that wasn't a good sign. _There's probably some nasty fucker jerkin' off on the other end of that thing. _Not even bothering to move, she reached up and pulled the covers from the bed and over her tired and sore body. She made an effort to cover her entire body, but the damn thing wasn't long enough. She growled in frustration at the blanket, "I hate you, you stupid short ass blan-"

Bursting through the door appeared Gordon, all peachy keen, he announced, "Alright, time to get up! It's your-" He stopped mid-sentence noticing the bed was empty, then dropped his gaze to the giant pile of covers on the floor, and noted there were two small boots sticking out nearest him. If he listened closely he could faintly hear the very obviously fake snores coming from beneath the blankets. Rolling his eyes, he bent down, grabbed the boots, and yanked Bulma out into the open.

Bulma squeaked in surprise, and put on a huge innocent grin when she suddenly came face to face with Gordon. With a hint of sarcasm she asked, "How's the weather up there?"

Either he was too dumb enough to get the joke, or he ignored it, because he continued to haul Bulma to her feet before shoving her onto the bed, and throwing an orange mass into her face. Which Bulma could only assume was the suit. "Change. Now," he demanded.

After ripping the suit off her face and into her lap, Bulma's sweet and innocent expression immediately turned into a scowl. He had turned, his back was facing her. Apparently, he was expecting her to follow his instructions like a good little bitch. Well, he has another thing coming. Flicking the suit off her lap, and into the corner of the room, she hissed, "I am NOT wearing this ridiculous piece of clothing." Crossing her arms and turning her nose up in the air, her pouty face was on full-force.

Growling, Gordon swung around, reached out, and tore Bulma's shirt right off her body. Leaving her tits for all the universe to see. Shocked and severely pissed, Bulma screamed at him, trying to cover herself in the process, "WHAT THE FUCK is your problem you cum-guzzling nasty motherfucking son of a bitch!!"

Letting out a deep vibrating laugh that could be heard many halls away, Gordon never heard a woman with such a vulgar mouth! Trying to settle down, he barely go out, "You must wear the suit now, or else I will rip off those shorts as well, and then the only thing you'll be wearing in the yard is your boots."

Screaming in aggravation, Bulma yelled out, "TURN AROUND!"

With a huge grin on his face, Gordon obeyed. He heard a bit of shuffling and whole lot of cursing, and she indicated she was done by rolling up the bits of her ripped shirt into a ball and chucking it at his head.

Turning around, he nearly choked on his own spit. The suit was small, too small, to the point where she could barely zip it up all the way. This, _unfortunately, _allowed plenty of cleavage to be shown. Bulma did not let his staring go unnoticed, "What?! This is your fault, if you hadn't ripped my shirt into a million fucking pieces then I wouldn't have to flash my goods! This suit is too fucking tiny, for Kami's sake I probably have the worst wedge-y known to man-kind!" She finished by stamping her foot, and giving him the most evil glare she could come up with.

Chuckling, he gestured for her to follow him out, and then they made their way down to the yard. He stared at her ass the entire way.

--

A/N: I'm not sure exactly how I'm going to have Vegeta enter this story. If anyone has any ideas, please share.


	4. Chapter 4

Several stories below the yard, a group of Freeza's goons were having a difficult time with a certain captive. The hall in which he was housed contained the most vicious of Freeza's collection, and there was only one left. His very presence seemed to slowly drive his fellow cell mates insane. Forcing them to be immediately removed before further damage could be put upon them. Not that he complained, he prefers the peace and quiet. Freeza was not happy with this though, and decided to punish him with solitary confinement. He assumed this would frighten him, and so far the deadline on how long Vegeta's punishment would last was unknown.

"Come on, short shit!" A giant of some sort of reptilian decent yelled, "Time to move your ass!"

Vegeta sat on a lone chair in the middle of his cell. The only piece of furniture that he was allowed to have. His bulky arms were crossed across his chest; his head was down allowing his chin to touch his collar bone; his eyes were closed. He looked asleep, but it didn't take a genius to know that he wasn't.

Bergo, the eight foot tall mass of scales and claws, glared at Vegeta from the cell's doorway. The little Price has already killed a half dozen men before he arrived, and he didn't plan on joining them. He tried a different approach, "Price Vegeta?" It was hard to tell, but he was almost positive that he saw his eye twitch.

Sighing, Bergo tried to reason with him, "I'm sorry, Price, but I'm here to move you to your new holding cell. You are not allowed to be near others from here-"

Bergo barely had time to blink before Vegeta had his fingers wrapped around his huge throat. His arms instinctively shot up to hopefully pull Vegeta's grip loose, but no avail. Silently praying for a miracle, his bloodshot eyes trailed over to Vegeta's, pleading for him to let him go.

Enjoying the misery he caused, Vegeta smirked, "You are a fool. Letting your guard down in hope of peace." Then without any effort, he flicked his wrist, snapping Bergo's neck clean in half. Tossing the enormous carcass aside, Vegeta shot through the doorway, and began to make his way to the docking bay. Where he planned to make his escape.

–

Grumbling to herself, Bulma sat in the corner of the yard waiting for that imbecile Leo. She had no idea where he was, and if he was even going to be in the yard the same time she was. Frustrated, she concentrated on drawing doodles on the table with her mind. When Freeza said he allowed her to have some of her mental powers, he wasn't kidding. She could still do quite a lot, but not enough to do much damage to others. Which was kinda annoying.

Suddenly an alarm went off, interrupting her concentration. She glanced up, and noticed the few guards that were stationed on the other side of the yard had franticly left leaving the captives alone. Her eyes began to glow and brighten with opportunity. Bolting out of her seat, Bulma ran to the closest exit, grabbing the handle, she flung open the door only to have it slammed shut right in her face.

In front of her was the hand that had pushed the door shut. With her eyes, she followed the hand, up the arm, and to the face of it's owner. _He looks like a Neanderthal, _was the first thing that flowed through Bulma's mind. He was covered head to toe in hair, he smelled and looked like he hadn't seen soap in ages, and he had disgustingly huge grin on his face. Which showed off his three teeth nicely. Plus, he was definitely well off in the muscle department. Gasping for air, Bulma slapped her hand over her nose while taking a few steps back. Hoping to find some fresh air.

"Whoa buddy! How can you not notice that?"

Letting out a deep low chuckle, the nasty bastard replied, "You funny girl."

Rolling her eyes, Bulma was about to turn around and walk away, but slammed face first into a what felt like a wall. Her hands shot up to hold her poor nose, a muffled groan slipping past her fingers. Her eyes, close to shooting lasers, snapped up to see another Neanderthal look alike. Growling, she kicked him in the shin. Which accomplished absolutely nothing. "What is this, a caveman party?"

She went to walk around him, but someone dropped a heavy hand on her shoulder holding her back. Before she could turn around, she was hauled back and pushed up against the door she had once tried to flee through. It was then she got to see what she was really up against.

Three alien men had taken the opportunity to act when they saw the little female racing to freedom. They've been eying her ever since she first step foot into the yard, and they weren't going to let her leave without getting a taste. Following the plan, the bear of a man, Thraso, attacked the female. Ignoring her thrashing and screams, he dragged her over to the nearest table, and slammed her down face first. Her upper body was held down, while her ass and legs dangled off the side of the table, attempting to karate chop anyone within a three foot radius. Grunting to his brother for help, another burly man stomped over and shoved his foot down on Bulma's left foot and held down her left shoulder. Thraso, copied the act on Bulma's right side. The third man grabbed a handful of the ugly orange suit that she was forced to wear, and tore it all the way down her back and past her ass.

Screaming, growling, hissing, and yelling, Bulma wasn't gonna go down without a fight. Trying every trick in the book, these men didn't seem to care about their worst fears as long as they got a little bit of pussy. Her hands were free, so she reached for the man's groin to her right. She made a mental note, to thank her mother for forcing her to take all those self-defense classes when she was a teenager. There was one thing she had yet to try. With a wicked grin, she repeated what was drilled into her head, over and over again from her teachers, "Grab, twist, and throw!"

A high-pitched squeal escaped Thraso's lips, before falling to his knees in agony. On his way down, his head collided with table, knocking him unconscious immediately. With her free foot, she kicked the man behind her in the jaw, sending him backwards. Then she turned to the man to her left, about to clobber him, but was stopped when something hard flew into her, and forced her back onto the table.

Once she got some air back into her lungs, she yanked her head around to see what exactly was holding her down. It was some sort of metal, and it looked like... a leg from a chair? She glanced up and saw the third man had removed the top half of his suit. The rest hung off his hips, while letting his erection grace their presence.

He chuckled, "You're quite the stubborn bitch now, aren't ya?"

Bulma ignored him, she was concentrating on trying to make his head explode... literally. The damn chip behind her head was making it all quite difficult. Every time she tried to inflict pain into his mind it seemed to backfire and attack her instead. Gritting her teeth, she tried to forget about the pain and concentrate only on harming the thing behind her.

Gother had no idea why the blue-haired bitch became quiet all of a sudden. Maybe she just accepted her fate? Either way, he started to feel a headache coming on. The pain was barely there at first, but slowly it grew to point where it hurt to blink. He began to mumble to himself, "Who the... fuck?" Almost losing his balance, he stumbled a bit trying to stay upright. He started to feel... out of place, like he wasn't sure why he was there and how he came to be. He saw his hand near his face, and slowly he turned it back and forth, truly fascinated at what he was seeing. His raised his other hand, and marveled at it just the same. As if he had never seen such a thing in his life. His eyes grew wide and he gasped when he found out that he could actually bend his fingers.

Exhausted, Bulma felt like she ran a marathon. She may not have been able to kill him, but at least she was about to scramble his brain beyond repair. Suddenly frantic, she tossed the bar off of her, and pulled her suit up. Fumbling for a moment, she tried to tie it around her shoulders so it would stay while nervously glancing over to where Gother was slowly running his fingers down his face. She doubted he would try anything (He couldn't even remember who or what he is!), but he was still very much stronger than her physically. Plus, at the moment she was dead tired, she wouldn't be able to out run him or attempt to hurt him mentally again. Freeza's chip does it's job, that's for sure. Working her mind around it is possible, as she has just found out, but it's definitely something that would take a lot more time and practice.

Glancing around the yard, she noticed it was completely empty. Everyone must have had the same idea as her when the guards left. She was just held back by three certain assholes. Suddenly reminded of the other two who helped attack her, she glanced back at the table where they laid motionless on the ground. She decided to leave while they were still in that position.

Jogging towards the door, she slowly stuck her head out into the hall, looking both ways before she turned left. Having no idea where she was going, but knowing she needed to move in order to find out. She heard voices, they weren't loud, but they sounded nervous. She kept close to the wall while she tip-toed her way to the door, and looked in the tiny window.

It was some sort of control room, it wasn't big, and there was only three people inside. They were running back and fourth pushing buttons, hissing orders at each other. Bulma furrowed her brow confused, but continued down the hall. Every so often she'd come across an emergency sign with the red light flickering. The red streamed down the empty hall, not another soul in sight. iWhat could have happened for all the guards to just up and leave? Where the hell is Freeza? Wouldn't he be worried about his precious collection piece? I almost got gang raped by a bunch of fucked up cavemen for Kami's sake!/I

She stopped dead when she heard yelling, but from behind her. Whipping her head around, she spotted a door up ahead to her right. It had no window, but she didn't stop to think. Running over she practically ripped the door off it's hinges, flung herself inside, and slammed it shut. She felt around for a light switch, and sighed in relief when the light actually worked. Turning around she came face to face with a red-flame haired man. "AHH!" Without a second thought, she punched the guy right in his nose.

"Holy shi-!" Holding his poor nose, he moaned in pain.

Bulma gasped, "Leo? Why the hell did scare me like that?"

Leo rolled his eyes and let go of his nose, thankful there was no blood on his hands. "I wasn't itrying/I to scare you. I was actually on my way to find you, but some guards almost caught up with me so I've been hiding out in here for the last 20 minutes."

Bulma snorted and mumbled to herself , "Sure you have, and I'm the Queen of England."

"What?"

"Nothing, just tell me which way is the docking bay."

Leaning up against the wall behind him, Leo sighed while running his fingers through his flame like hair, "It's not that easy, and it's not something that you could do alone."

Stomping her foot, Bulma almost yelled but controlled herself, "We've been through this before, and I've told you that I don't need help-"

"Then why are you asking me for directions?"

"Because that would be-"

"Face it, you need my help to get out of here. Just accept the fact, so we can quit arguing and get our asses off this ship!"

"Maybe if you quit interrupting me!"

Frustrated, he pinched the bridge of his nose, "How about this, I'll tell you if you agree to take my team and myself along with you."

Annoyed that it has come to this, Bulma stiffly nodded her head before she blurted out her real opinion on the matter. She forced one question out of her mouth, "Where exactly is your little team?"

Leo smirked, "I told them to wait close to the docking bay. They're probably picking out a ship as we speak."

Bulma's eyes lit up, "Then why the hell are we waiting around here for? Let's go!"


End file.
